If I told her everything she would have told Silvia to shove that deal up her ass. Maybe.
Tate is a fire I can never predict. She’s wild, burning her own path instead of the one laid out for her.
I smirk, thinking about her hellfire ways.
I miss Tate.
I hate that I miss her.
I get why she accepted the fight though, she was trying to save her family. I myself bought my parents’ house when it was nearly taken by the bank years ago. Granted it didn’t save my family, but I have it. I would have done anything to save it.
From the outside it looks like a bunch of wood and a foundation, but it’s more than that. My house told a story, a story about a little blonde haired girl I fell in love with next door. The memories of Tate and I outdid the shitty ones of my parents.
I couldn’t let the bank take it.
The door to the gym opens, and Tate walks in. She has on a baggy gray shirt, and black shorts. Her face is bruised, and her hair doesn’t look like she’s brushed it. She looks rough. I can tell she’s in a lot of pain from the fight by the way she’s hunched over. She looks over the gym, and her eyes land on mine. My chest constricts, and I look down pretending to organize my jock straps.
I feel her standing behind me before hearing her. Resting an elbow on my knee I rub my chin with my hand waiting for her to say something.
“Camden?” Her words are innocent and soft, making this so much harder. “Can we talk?”
I don’t respond, because I’m not sure what to say. Maybe because I know I fucked up as much as she did. When they say men suck at apologizing, they were right.
A hand slaps me upside the head. Furrowing my brows I turn, finding her standing straight, her hands balled into fists at her side.
“Have you lost your mind?” I cock a brow.
“You’re going to talk to me!” she demands. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I left you behind four years ago. I’m sorry that I accepted an illegal fight and didn’t tell you about it. I’m sorry for… I’m sorry for everything.” Tears fall from her eyes and I can feel my resolve instantly break. Bending down I grab my bag and walk to the door not wanting to hash this out here. Especially after the shit that just went down between Thomas and I.
Stepping outside the summer sun warms my skin, sweat instantly beading along my back.
“Most of all, I’m sorry I ever hurt you when all I tried to do was the opposite. I’m just… I suck at doing the right thing. I always have,” she continues, trying to keep up.
I stop a few feet from my car, my keys in my hands. That is why I love Tate though, her faults are what attracts me to her.
“But you aren’t perfect either. You kept secrets from me too, remember that!”
Her footsteps crunch in the gravel as she heads back to her car. I want to be mad at her, but I can’t for the life of me do it any longer.
Angry and confused I throw my bag on the ground and rub at the back of my neck. My head lowered, my eyes closed I call after her.
“Tate!” Opening my eyes, I turn. Tate stops and looks at me with swollen eyes from crying. It bothers me that she’s been crying.
Licking my bottom lip I strut toward her. Her body trembles as I near, her eyes fluttering, her wet lashes stick together.
“I didn’t know—” Fisting her hair hard, I press my mouth to hers, shutting her up.
My lips part hers, demanding entry. Her hands cupping my face I swallow her cries, the taste of stolen tears and sadness filling my mouth. It feels good having her next to me again.
Jerking her hair, her lips pull from mine and I rest my forehead against hers.
This woman is my nightmare and my saving grace. Like a drug. You know it’s bad for you, but the way you feel when you’re so wrapped up and consumed by it overrides any rational thinking.
That’s the shit love is made of.
“I should have told you everything. I messed up,” I confess. “I’m sorry too.”
She nods, a small smile trying to break through her sadness.
I dig my fingers into her neck, catching her attention.
“But, don’t ever pull that shit again,” I whisper.
Chapter Thirty-One
Three Days Later
Tate
I lay in Camden’s bed, my body aching from head to toe. The second day was the worst when it came to pain, and each day gets better but I still hurt from the broken rib. It’s going to take some time to heal from this one.
My hands under my chin, I stare at the half empty duffle bag sitting on the floor across the room. I paid Dad’s debt and the house. He doesn’t know, and I don’t plan on telling him. I’m hoping he just thinks the banks gave up trying to get money.
If I told him I took care of everything he’d think of it as a handout when in reality I’m trying to keep us together. My family is too fragile to lose something so sentimental. It would break us all over again if we lost the house.